Feeling Safe
by TheRealSokka
Summary: Like every mechanism, [sleep], too, seemed prone to faults. Will Robinson seemed to be developing one such. (Nightmare/Comfort)


**I adore this relationship. In my headcanon, the Robot is already affected by its friendship with Will; so that's why he's a bit more 'human' here.**

* * *

 _[Objective 1: Escort Robinsons:_ _Accomplished_ _.]_

 _[Objective 2: Enter cave. Scan cave:_ _Accomplished_ _.]_

 _[Objective 3: Relax a little:_ _Status unclear_ _.]_

The Robot's processor had been running this last order for the last 98 minutes and 34 seconds, so far without coming to a satisfactory conclusion. _[Relax]_ prescribed to stay still, conserve energy. This already clashed with the Robot's deep programming to be alert at all times; protect its commander. Of course, since said commander had given the order to relax, that priority could be overwritten if so desired. But moreover, the human term was ambiguous; its meanings ranging from the above mentioned to (vaguely) 'carry out any activity without specific goal', a classification that didn't help either. If there was one thing the Robot bemoaned with its human company, it was their struggle to set clear and precise objectives. Under normal circumstances it would have asked its commander for clarification at this point, but Will Robinson was currently in power-down.

As were the other family units ([ _sisters/siblings/children]_ – classifications it still had to adjust to.) The Robot turned its visual receptors away from the cave entrance and to the three huddled-together figures on their bed of pine needles. All the Robinsons' eyes were closed, their breathing even; and all were unresponsive. _[Sleep]_ was the term they used to describe this mode. The Robot watched them for a while, observing them _sleeping_ and, in the background, loading the appropriate memory files to pass the time with a more detailed analysis. Will Robinson, and his family as a whole, were a fascinating study.

Curiosity had been an inherent part of the Robot's being as far back as it could remember; a side effect of its programming which required it to collect and process as much data as possible. But its first encounter with Will Robinson had multiplied that curiosity tenfold: more than anything, the Robot wanted to understand this curious human child that had found the damaged unit in the tree. Wanted to understand his actions that so often defied the inherent logic of a situation and led him to do very strange things. Like saving its life, for instance.

The Robot realized it was dwelling too long on this data thread and reluctantly shifted its attention away from Will Robinson. Spontaneous as the commander's behaviour might be, there was certainly something to be learned by studying the larger frame he fit into.

 _[Opening Data File: 'Robinson family'. Classification: Human]_

 _[Analysing Memory Files]_

 _[Editing Data File: 'Sleep']_

All family units seemed to be equipped with only a limited amount of energy per day; energy that needed to be recharged in darkness, according to the patterning. It was slightly – different from its own way of resource management. The Robot was able to harness a certain amount of energy from a multitude of different sources, but most of those were friction or radiation based. To be able to recharge without any light to speak of – and with only minimal movement – was a very useful mechanism these people had developed. The Robot interrupted its analysis briefly as the Penny unit turned over and muttered something, but without exiting her sleep-mode. It followed the process until she resumed her former pattern, then added the new data to its analysis: the sleep mechanism, in addition to recharging the Robinsons' energy, seemed to allow them to still run processes and evaluate data. Quite similar to its own design, and yet subtly different in execution. Fascinating.

But like every mechanism, _[sleep],_ too, seemed prone to faults.

Will Robinson seemed to be developing one such. Unlike his siblings, his breathing was not a steady rising and falling anymore, but had turned into an uneven rhythm; unnaturally loud and interrupted by stutters. Liquid was pooling on his forehead. The Robot watched the process curiously at first, until Will Robinson's face suddenly twisted for a moment, before resuming its previous state. This was unusual. It had almost looked like Will Robinson was in pain, which immediately set off the Robot's alarms. Its desire to remove the cause of that pain activated automatically and its core powered up within a second, ready to spring into action. But where was the cause? The Robot double-checked its sensors, but Will Robinson's vital signs were all within the parameters – aside from the increased heart rate. There was nothing in the cave that could have caused an alarm reaction, either.

But Will Robinson was getting worse; in the small moment the Robot had not been watching, the boy had begun throwing himself from side to side, letting out incoherent noises. He looked very vulnerable all of a sudden. At that, the Robot's analysis of the situation was interrupted by an unknown programme _[no previous records available]_ that it couldn't classify. For a second, the machine was uncertain. Normally, standard procedure would be to eliminate unknown data threads like that, but the protocols this one activated were familiar: protect. Keep Will Robinson safe. They were so deeply ingrained at this point that the Robot was already walking over to the small, shaking figure before it could even question the validity of that programme.

 _[Objective: Protect Will Robinson. Identifying appropriate course of action.]_ As a general rule, it was unwise to interrupt a unit in power-down. It could lead to all kinds of malfunctions. The Robot hovered over its commander/'friend' _[concept still processing]_ for a moment, uncertain. But then Will Robinson gave a small outcry and his face twisted again, and that decided it. It had to protect him.

It placed a hand on Will's shoulder – gently, as instructed. Nothing happened. It gave a little more pressure, hoping that it wasn't harmful yet, until the little Robinson gave a small noise and his eyes flew open. Within a second, he sat bolt upright. He looked around wide-eyed and cried out: "No! You can't…" He trailed off when his eyes settled on the robot. "Oh." a small noise escaped his throat.

The Robot could still feel Will Robinson's pulse racing. Strange. This was his common reaction to danger – but in the absence of an acute threat, the Robot had to identify the sleep process as its cause. Like Will Robinson had been running a _simulation_ of danger which had somehow malfunctioned. After a quick consideration, it changed its display into an array of slow light waves, designed to be calming. It hoped the technique worked for this case: as with most things concerning Will Robinson, there was no precedent in its memory banks. This was all new.

The commander's eyes remained unfocused; his systems still rebooting. He turned toward his sisters, who were peacefully asleep. His pulse finally started to enter normal parameters again. Then he turned back to the machine by his side. The Robot displayed a question: _[Status: Fine?]_

But instead of an answer, it suddenly felt two small arms wrap around his plating. The action surprised it once again. But its processor quickly loaded the appropriate file, _['hug'],_ and acted accordingly: It reached over Will Robinsons head (not that difficult, given the size difference) and placed its hands on his back; gently, allowing the commander to move away at any time. He didn't, which led the Robot to classify the _[hug]_ action as successful. Admittedly, the file was still incomplete and the classification thus premature, but still.

What was the next objective? There was some basic information: _[Hug]_ was a request for protection. The Penny unit had explained that it was more about _[feeling]_ protected, a concept the Robot hadn't understood at the time and still didn't quite understand now. But since it _was_ going to protect Will Robinson, perhaps this vague secondary goal would be accomplished as well.

"Sorry." a small voice whispered. The Robot looked down, to be met with a pair of wide eyes, slightly blurred at the edges. At that point, the unknown programme sprang into action once more. The Robot shifted its display to suggest _[comfort]_ as best as it could. It didn't feel quite adequate. Some of these human concepts were frustratingly difficult to express, to say nothing of the fact that most of the time the Robinsons couldn't seem to read the display in the first place. Will Robinson was the exception – sometimes. Right now he was staring up at the Robot, wiping tears from his eyes and evidently not in a state to process difficult concepts.

"I didn't wake you up, did I? I'm sorry."

 _[Sorry.]_ The Robot found it difficult to process these kinds of statements. Will Robinson had a habit of _[apologizing]_ often, at least in relation to the other family units. And most of the time without a requirement to do so. He seemed to always fear to have done something wrong, which struck the Robot as irrational. It couldn't deny that this uncertainty in its commander unsettled it a little.

 **[Weakness: Lifeform constantly unsure of its function.]**

The Robot deleted that data thread as soon as it appeared. Sometimes these sub-surface analyses activated unplanned, which was more than a little frustrating. Most likely some residual damage from _[error: information not available]._ They didn't align with its objectives, so it ignored them.

Instead, the Robot tilted its head and shifted its display once more. Asking for a status update. To its delight, Will Robinson deciphered it correctly:

"Yeah, I'm okay. It was – just a nightmare."

 _[Creating Data File: 'Nightmare'. Classification: sleep malfunction. Harmful to Will Robinson. Prevent from occurring again.]_

"Do you ever have nightmares? Dad says everyone has them."

The Robot decided to its head. Archaic as that language was, it guaranteed understanding more reliably then its display.

"Maybe you just don't remember them. I don't remember most of my dreams."

 _[Memory error? Repairs required?]_

Will Robinson stared at its faceplate, his eyes displaying open curiosity, intermixed with something else: "I think Dr. Smith is right. I wish I could understand what you're saying."

Communication was still a work in progress, admittedly. But the commander was decidedly doing better than he gave himself credit for. Instead of a verbal answer, the Robot raised its hand. Hoping Will Robinson would take it for the encouragement it was. After a moment, the commander gave an understanding smile, jumped up and connected their palms for a second. What an odd gesture that was, the Robot reflected. But it did give a strange sense of accomplishment, and maybe that was the point. Will Robinson's actions were not always easy to follow, but the more they interacted, the more the Robot was starting to understand.

Will Robinson let out a great yawn. The physical warning that he was on low power. Small wonder; he had not gotten more than two hours' sleep.

 _[Resume re-charging?]_

"Hey, I'll just go outside for a second. Get some fresh air. You don't have to come with."

The Robot remained where he stood as the commander walked away, processing the request. There it was again; that ambiguity. Not a command to stay, but not an explicit ban to follow, either. Which left it in a situation where it had to decide the best course of action for itself. Once a programme reserved for emergencies, the Robot had found itself using it more and more lately.

It followed Will Robinson.

The commander sat perched on a rock just outside the cave entrance, bathed in light, idly dangling his legs above the stony slope. He smiled when he registered the Robot's footsteps: "Needed to breathe too, huh?"

The strange bio-organisms still filled the air above the treetops, illuminating everything with their purple glow. They had been up there for hours, almost since the sun set. By the Robot's analysis, their colourful movement was a type of mating mechanism, to draw in others of their kind. An imperfect mechanism, far too bright to attract only well-meaning organisms, but understandable given that this lifeform had had scarcely any time to develop. Or maybe they instinctively knew that this planet's life cycle was nearing its end, and tried to use the remaining time as efficiently as possible.

"It's so beautiful."

The Robot had never heard the commander's voice sound quite like that. The child was evidently seeing something more in this. _[Beautiful]._ Another new concept that required processing. The Robot quietly added it to the steadily growing entity that was Will Robinson. Not to the _[humans]_ classification, not yet. Those two files had been running separately, though largely in parallel, from the start. The Robot had made that distinction immediately after the commander saved its life; on the basis that this behaviour contradicted the limited information about humans the Robot had been able to salvage from its data cores. Maybe that particular file had been corrupted. It would require further testing before the files could (perhaps) be combined again.

Whatever fascinating programming had let to this particular result, Will Robinson seemed unable to look away from the lights in the sky. The Robot found that it didn't want to, either.


End file.
